Martyrs and Thieves
by Alia G. L
Summary: Oneshot and song fic. Kyle's thoughts and feelings as he climbs the hill after the van explodes. A little sad toward the end. Please read and review. Thanks.


Disclaimer: I don't own Pretender. Though I wish I did. And "Martyrs and Thieves" belongs to Jennifer Knapp

A/N: After watching "Dragon House" and "Red Rock Jarod", I just had to write a Kyle fic. I love him! He's so cool. Anyway, I heard this song and thought the verses fit Kyle perfectly. So enjoy. Please review as well. Thanks!

Martyrs and Thieves

"**Don't tell them what I became."**

I moved hastily away from the van. My leg screamed at me to stop, but I ignored the pain. I had been doing that all my life: ignoring pain. A tree in the near vicinity offered a perfect item to lean against. The tall grass would hide me from prying eyes and I was now far enough way that the flames would do me no harm. I raised the gun and fired. The van exploded in something akin to fireworks on the Fourth of July. Not that I had truly ever seen any.

The tree's bark dug into my exposed skin. I could feel the heat from the flames, though none touched me. My leg was on fire. It was painful enough in a Sim, but real life? Who ever thought of such pain? Though, it wasn't as bad as the pain in my soul. I sat there and started thinking. My thoughts drifted over both time and space. What was it about death, or the nearness of it, that makes you think about your life? I had never had this experience before. I'd never known the true fear of being killed. Even when in jail, I knew I could escape. Now, though I was almost sure, I wasn't truly sure. Confidence had left me. I was all alone with a fire-consumed van and my thoughts.

"_There's a place in the darkness that I used to cling to."_

Hate. It's what I had been taught. I was the one who decided who lived and died. Those words had been branded into my thoughts since I was a young boy. Raines had bred my hatred 'til it was a beast consuming me. I clung to it. It was the only thing that would save me now. Or was it?

"_That presses harsh hope against time."_

Hope. Jarod. From my place next to the tree, Jarod symbolized a hope I no longer had. My older brother. My older brother! Who would have ever thought that I would have a family of any kind? My brother was hope. But there was no hope for me. All my hopes had died the day Raines took me from my cell. Time had taught me that hatred was my way. My only way.

"_In the absences of martyrs there's a presence of thieves."_

I was a thief. Raines had taught me well. The faces of my victims surfaced, complimenting the pain from my leg. They leered at me, demanding my demise. I should be dead. The flames licked up the remains of the van. The police, or whoever they were, had gone, planning, no doubt, to come back as soon as the fire died down. But, I wouldn't be here. Somehow I had to make it to the road. I had to get out of here. Nothing would stand in my way.

"_Who only want to rob you blind."_

But I wasn't the only thief. Raines had stolen everything from me. My life. My family. My morals. Everything. I was a shell. That hatred had eaten everything inside. Jarod seemed to have thought I could be redeemed. Sorry, older brother. You are wrong. Every good thing in me has been stolen.

"_They steal away any sense of peace."_

Pulling myself up from the ground, I tried to brace myself against a branch. An explosion of lights flashed before my eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. I commanded my rebelling body. Despite knowing what to do, it didn't help the pain. My leg would give me no peace. Peace. What was that? I had never known peace. My life was all a big pretend.

"_Tho' I'm a king, I'm a king on my knees."_

I decide who lives or dies. I decide who lives or dies! I whispered the mantra to myself as I slowly reached for a piece of wood lying next to the tree. But the words, which bred my hatred and had helped me focus so often before, did not help me. I, who should have owned the world, was helpless.

"_And I know they're wrong when they say I am strong, as the darkness covers me."_

I took a few painful steps back up the hill. I had to make it to the road. It was the only way of escape. Two steps. Then three steps. I stumbled and fell, my leg protesting all the movement. I rolled over and lay there for a few seconds, catching my breath. This was going to be harder than I thought. I sat up and my head dropped to my chest. Who was I fooling? I was as weak and helpless as a new born babe. I would never make it up that hill. Darkness crept in front of my vision. No! I would never surrender. I pulled myself up, grabbed the piece of wood, and started hiking. The darkness, however, did not go away. It was a permanent part of me. I would never escape it.

"_There are ghosts from my past who've owned more of my soul."_

Raines. I muttered. Raines, you will pay for what you have done to me… to Jarod. The hatred boiled in my blood as I painfully climbed the hill. A thought struck me. It seemed to come from my brother, though how it was possible, I'm not sure. It seemed to whisper to me that by hating Raines, I was giving him control. I was doing exactly what he wanted me to do. And what is so wrong with hate? Yes, it controls and consumes you, but it gives you power and makes you strong. I decide who lives or dies.

"_Than I thought I had given away."_

Those words made me wince. What would Jarod have thought? He knew. He must have seen the blue notebook. He must know that there is no redemption for one such as myself and there is nothing good in me. Why did he come and rescue me? Maybe once, a lifetime ago, there would have been something to save. Now there was nothing. Raines owned all of me.

"_They linger in closets and under my bed and in pictures less proudly displayed."_

My life was one of hatred. I saw that, as I made my way to the top of the hill. The little dirt road spread out in front of me and I collapsed. My strength had been slowly eaten away. My leg was bleeding and I knew I had sustained a concussion of sorts. The world was slowly spinning and I was having trouble focusing. But, I wasn't going to give up. I couldn't. Jarod wouldn't have. Even though I had barely gotten to know him over these few short days, I looked up to him. He was so different than myself. I had ghosts that came to haunt. I had committed atrocities that could never be forgiven. They lay displayed before my mind, faces that I could never forget.

"_A great fool in my life I have been."_

I was a fool. A damn fool. A tear slipped down my face. Two sides warred within me. I should be more like Jarod. I should be more like him. But, revenge was too sweet a drink for me not to partake of it. Revenge on the whole Centre and everyone who had hurt Jarod. Did this make me a fool? No, I couldn't believe it did. It couldn't. My resolve strengthened.

"_Have squandered 'til pallid and thin."_

I would not die on this road. I would live and extract my revenge. But, I needed to find my brother. I needed him to be there; for him to see his days of running come to an end. How, though? How do I find him? Of course. Parker. Sydney. They would lead me right to him. As soon as I found a ride and got my leg healed, I would go after them and find Jarod. And then everything would be all right.

"_Hung my head in shame and refused to take blame from the darkness I know I've let win."_

The hatred overcame me. My lifeline. The only way for me to survive. I looked at the sky and argued with an unseen being who might have existed. I was born to hate. That is all I have ever known. I can not change. I need not change. I have no reason to be ashamed of my actions. My brother's image flashed through my mind as I saw a truck rumbling down the road. But, Jarod had so much confidence in me. He believed I could be saved, that the hatred could be overcome. Redeemed, I think, is the word for it. Would I ever redeem myself of the evil I had wrought?

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"**I'm sorry, Jarod."**

"**For what?"**

"**For everything."**

It hurt, like a million knives driving themselves into my heart and lungs. I felt life rushing out of me. It was time. I was going to die. Jarod leaned over me, murmuring about getting me to a hospital, of all the good times we would have. No hospital. No good times. No time. Just enough time for good-byes. To have found him and then lost. My brother. I loved him and prayed he would have luck in finding our parents. Our parents. What would they think of me? What I had done? Their son who had been lost and had given over to hatred. It had fueled my life. It had been my everything. A memory flashed through my mind. The sheriff's wife hugging me, crying. I drew in a ragged breath. The feeling of doing something good was the greatest feeling I had ever known. The faces of all I had tortured… murdered… flashed through my mind, as well. But, the looks weren't condemning. In the end, I had redeemed myself. Three lives saved to make up for the evil. Maybe. Just maybe something good would come out of my death. The world was loosing a killer, that much I knew, but maybe something better would come out of it. Maybe in my death, someone could find life. It's not too much to ask. At least I hope not. As I look at my brother, I wish I could have done more good. For his sake. A final gasp of breath flowed through me. Good-bye, brother.

"_So turn on the lights and reveal all the glory, I am not afraid._

_To bear all my weakness, knowing in meekness, I have a kingdom to gain._

_Where there is peace and love in the light, I am not afraid._

_To let your light shine in my life."_

And his eyes closed in eternal sleep.


End file.
